


Phantom Pain & Memories

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Steve and Bucky: Tales of Recovery [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Happy Ending, Male Friendship, Memories, Mild Language, Minor Original Character(s), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve hates that he has to stop looking for Bucky after learning he was alive, but Hydra is still active and duty calls...as always. When his feelings distract him enough to slip up in battle, he learns that Bucky never left him. Then he just has to figure out how to make contact. Turns out Bucky is a couple steps ahead of him there too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phantom Pain & Memories

_“I got in over my head. Bucky waded in and pulled me out, just like he always did. And the one time he needed me to return the favor, I couldn't._

_“All I had to do was hold on.”_

Steve had meant the words when he spoke them to Peggy, all those years ago. Most of it had been figurative, but it had all been true.

It wasn't just figurative anymore. Steve had felt himself drowning; felt this body letting go. Then there was Bucky, as always. He had thrown himself into the water and pulled Steve out. Literally, this time. Seventy years of cryo, brainwashing, torture, 'medically' induced amnesia...and Bucky had gone right back to taking care of him. 

It was supposed to be Steve's turn now. What good was it being a super soldier, being Captain America, being an Avenger, if he couldn't save the person who meant the most to him in the world? 

It wasn't just that he had failed Bucky. It was that he _kept_ failing Bucky. First on the train, then by not going after him when he fell, by not stopping _them_. Now, he couldn't even _find_ him. 

Steve had no idea what was going on with Bucky. No idea if he was safe, if he was free. He didn't know if Hydra had reclaimed their Asset. He didn't know anything about Bucky's healing rate; if the damage Steve had done to him during that final fight had healed as quickly as Steve's injuries had. He didn't know if infection would be a problem. 

He didn't know anything and he hated it. This was _Bucky_. Steve was supposed to know everything about him. He always had in the past. 

As if everything wasn't hard enough to take already, Steve then had to _quit looking_. 

Hydra was still out there. With or without its _tortured and brainwashed_ toy soldier -and how could he be expected to stop thinking about that for any length of time?- it was still a threat. The Avengers were needed. Steve had a duty to fulfill. 

He always had a duty to fulfill. The world didn't care that he'd failed the most important one. 

It had been his own fault. Steve was so focused on his anger, so focused on the feel of slamming his shield into the next Hydra agent. He didn't notice another one sneaking up behind him until he heard the shot and saw the knife fly just over his shoulder. 

Steve spun around just in time to see another agent loose a throwing knife. Another bullet broke the knife's trajectory before it could strike Steve. In practically the same second, another bullet struck the Hydra agent in the head. 

Steve turned to see who had saved him, but there wasn't anyone stationed in the direction the bullet had come from. Just woods. Trees and snow and silence.

It was all so familiar, Steve couldn't bring himself to look away. He felt like if he kept looking, he'd see that familiar glint of a sniper rifle; a familiar dash of blue somewhere deep within the forest. 

He didn't. But the next dozen Hydra agents to approach him were also taken down by the unseen marksman. They were perfect shots. Steve knew of only two people in the world who could pull off such shots and one was only armed with a bow and arrow.

Steve threw his shield to take out a few more agents. He returned his focus on the fight. The marksman continued to support him, to protect him. 

When it was over, Steve split from his allies and headed into the woods, in the direction the bullets that defended him had come from. There was no one there, not that he had time to check the whole woods but he was sure he'd found the spot the shots had originated from. There was no sign that anyone had been there recently. 

He thought of all the times he (along with Sam or Clint or Tony) had arrived at one of the old Hydra bases listed in Bucky's file. How they'd always found nothing; no resistance, no guards to watch over old secrets. They had assumed it was because Hydra had been exposed. They'd needed to pull their resources to protect their current operations. 

Steve knew better now. 

“You're such a punk!” He spoke into the seemingly empty woods. “You've been watching over me the whole time, haven't you?

“Why did you leave, Bucky? You saved me. You _knew_ me. Why are you hiding from me? What are you afraid of? Do you think I can't protect you? I can. I _will_. 

“I won't let anyone take you. I have proof of what they did to you, Buck. I-” Steve's voice broke, thinking of what was detailed in Bucky's Hydra file. He couldn't believe his friend had survived. “I'm sorry, Bucky. Please...come home. 

“I miss you, Bucky...”

Steve stood in the woods until Clint came to tell him they needed to report back, debrief, _leave_. He sounded sympathetic, as if he knew who Steve was looking for in the cold woods in the middle of nowhere. Steve wondered when Clint had noticed the extra support. Then, he wondered if it had been the first fight the archer had realized they had an extra marksman.

"How long?" Steve didn't bother with any context. 

Apparently, Clint didn't need any. "Since you returned to duty after the incident at the Potomac".

Steve shook his head. "Punk." He turned to head back with Clint. He tossed a few more words over his shoulder as he left. "Find me. _Soon_."

A few days later, Steve was home. He finished his morning run and sat down to drink some water on his favorite park bench. He'd brought along his sketchbook and planned on drawing the birds or the fountain for a little while. Enjoy the peace while he could before he had to go back out into the field. Where he couldn't look for Bucky.

There was an old-fashioned lady's pocketbook sitting on the bench when he got there. 

Steve looked around but didn't see anyone. He hadn't seen anyone for most of the morning. The weather was cold, with a breeze that bit into you. It wasn't enough to stop Steve, but most people were probably keeping indoors. 

Steve picked up the pocketbook and opened it to check the ID, figuring he could return it if the lady lived nearby or drop it off at the police station otherwise. A folded piece of paper fell out when he opened it. The word 'Jerk' was written on it.

It was just the one word. It could have been for anyone, except it was written by a hand as familiar as Steve's own. 

His heart sped up as he picked up the paper. He looked around again but still didn't see anyone. He opened it.

_Steve_

Just reading his name in the familiar script was enough to make Steve's heart leap into his throat. Bucky could have picked up the name anywhere, but the fact that he addressed Steve by name, that he was looking out for him, it was promising. And it was a promise Steve intended to hold onto. 

_I'm sorry. For everything. For hurting you. For worrying you. I'll never be able to make it right. I'm so sorry._

Steve clenched his jaw. Bucky was the last person who needed to apologize. Steve would make him see that none of it was his fault. Even if it took the rest of their lives. 

_When I saved you, I knew you were important. I knew I had to protect you. But I didn't know who you were or who I was. I didn't know if it was safe ~~for you~~ to stick around._

Steve shook his head. Even without his memories, Bucky had taken care of him. It seemed that was just built into the man, like having good rhythm or being skilled with numbers and weapons. 

_I didn't really leave you though. You're right, I have been watching you. It isn't that I don't think you'd protect me too. It doesn't matter what you can prove, pal. I'm a weapon now_

There was no punctuation on that last comment. The penmanship after that wasn't as smooth, as though the hand writing it were trembling. There was a discolored spot by the word, as though a drop of clear liquid had landed on the paper. Steve felt tears fill his own eyes at the thought of Bucky crying and calling himself a weapon. 

_You're under heavy surveillance. If I try to come ~~home~~ to you now, they'll find me. They won't let me stop. Helping you is one thing. I'll always do that, but I can't be what Hydra made me anymore. I  won't be that anymore._

Steve's eyes narrowed. No one had cleared surveillance on him, at least, not with him. That would have angered him in any case. The fact that whoever was watching him was keeping Bucky away pissed him off in a way very few things had before. 

_I remember you now. More than anyone or anything else. I'll be cleaning my gun or doing laundry and suddenly I remember something. You're always there but not, and I miss you so much it hurts. It feels like losing a limb._

Steve felt like someone had just reached into his chest and grabbed his heart. He knew exactly what Bucky was talking about. The same thing happened to him. All the time. Steve would be washing the dishes or throwing a punch and suddenly he'd remember. 

Sometimes the memory was attached to the action. Bucky insisting that the dishes be cleaned, convinced that if they left them overnight, mold would grow and make Steve sick. Bucky teaching him how to fight so he didn't hurt himself. Sometimes it was just a random memory. Him and Bucky planning out how the Howling Commandos were going to attack a certain Hydra base. Him and Bucky sharing a bag of peanuts at the fair.

In those moments, he missed Bucky so much it was like having asthma all over again. He could barely breathe with the weight of it in his chest.

_I know I don't have the right to ask anything of you, but could you do me a favor? Return the bag to the lady I took it from?_

Steve grinned to himself. It was just like Bucky to worry about the lady losing her purse in the middle of everything he had going on. He was such a good person. Steve hoped he knew that. 

_Whatever happens from here, just remember that I'm with you._ There was an odd break in the flow of the text, as if Bucky had hesitated before adding: _To the end of the line, pal._

Steve eyes were watering again. He took a moment to compose himself before standing. He looked around as he folded the paper and put it into his own wallet. He wondered if Bucky was watching him; if he would hear him if he thanked him for reaching out. 

Bucky probably wasn't the only one watching though, so Steve decided against it. He didn't want to give away the author of the note. Even if they considered that it might be from Bucky, they would have no way to know and Steve wasn't about to confirm it. 

He picked up the pocketbook and headed to the address on the ID inside. It had recently expired, and Steve hoped the woman hadn't moved. He was currently in Manhattan and the purse belonged to one Mrs Torres of Brooklyn. Steve wondered if the location had been on purpose. 

On the train, Steve recognized a man he usually saw while working out at his gym. The man switched trains with him too, never acknowledging Steve in any way. It could be a coincidence, but after Bucky's warning, he couldn't help but be suspicious. 

He sent a text to Tony, asking if the offer to stay at the Tower was still open. He received a response immediately.

[Mi casa es tu casa. And its about damn time you came around.]

Steve hesitated to explain, but then remembered that Tony was both one of the smartest and one of the most paranoid people he knew. Tony didn't need much momentum to roll with when it came to situations like these.

He decided to keep it short for now. He could fill in the details when they were talking face to face. 

[Under surveillance. Don't know by who. Don't feel safe at my place.]

The response was lighting quick. [Fucking SHIELD, I told you. No chance of that here. Don't go back to your apartment. I'll send someone for your stuff.]

It was immediately followed by another text from Tony, as if an idea had just struck him as he sent the previous one. [Are you in trouble right now?]

Steve assured Tony that he was fine, that he didn't need backup. He told him that he just had something to do and then he'd be at the Tower. He also told him not to bother clearing out his apartment, that just getting the things that were irreplaceable was enough. He also thanked him. 

[Good. I'll tell them to leave your ugly furniture and old man clothes. You can pay me back by talking your bff into letting me check out his arm when you find him.]

Steve rolled his eyes, then he smiled softly. 

He had told Tony about Zola implying that Hydra had killed his parents. He'd also told him that there was a possibility they'd used Bucky to do it. Tony replied that he'd designed enough weapons to know how they work. He didn't blame Bucky. He blamed Hydra. 

Ever since then, Tony had been as devoted to taking down Hydra as Steve was. He was nearly as determined to help Steve get Bucky back. He claimed it was because he didn't want Hydra to have such a powerful asset. Steve was sure that was true, but he was also sure that Tony didn't know how to simply tell a friend that he was there for them. 

Steve had no idea how he kept ending up with such loyal friends, but he was happy. Or he would be, once he got Bucky back in his life the way he wanted. 

A little old lady with a gray bun, tanned skin and big brown eyes answered the door when Steve knocked. She looked just the same as she did in her expired photo ID. 

“Hi, Mrs Torres. You don't know me, but I found this-” Steve held up the pocketbook. “-And I believe its yours?”

“Oh, you've found it!” The woman smiled in relief as Steve handed her the bag. Steve hoped Bucky was watching and was relieved as well.

“Thank you for returning this, young man. Do you know, I got all the way to the market before I realized I'd lost it? I didn't even get to do my weekly grocery shopping.”

Steve frowned at that. Bucky had probably been desperate to get in contact when he took the pocketbook. He would feel horrible if he knew he had disrupted a little old lady's routine. 

The woman sighed in relief after looking through the pocketbook. “Thank goodness everything is still here.” She pulled out a crisp ten dollar bill and held it toward Steve. “Here, please take this as a reward. It really was very kind of you to come all the way here and return it.”

“No, Ma'am; I couldn't.” Steve smiled politely as he held up a hand and shook his head. Then he thought of something that would help Mrs Torres and ensure that Bucky didn't have yet another thing to beat himself up over. “Actually, I was just about to go shopping myself. Its a pretty cold day out; why don't you give me your list and I can pick up your things as well?”

Mrs Torres looked like she was going to accept, but then hesitated. She adjusted her sweater and smiled kindly at Steve. “Oh, I- I couldn't trouble you any more...”

“Its no trouble,” Steve assured her. “Like I said, I have to buy some things anyway and your place is between my stop and the market. That's how I found your pocketbook to begin with.”

“If that's the case, then I suppose...” Mrs Torres seemed to think for a moment. Finally, she smiled again. “Well, it would be very helpful. Thank you again, young man. Here-” She pulled a small piece of paper and some money from her bag. “Here's my list and this should cover everything.”

Steve took the list only. “Why don't I just pay for it with my stuff and you can pay me back later, if you want? That way I don't have to make two runs at checkout or figure out how to split the bill between your cash and my my credit card.”

“Alright, I wouldn't want to put you to any more trouble. We'll sort it all out over espresso and cookies when you come back. How does that sound?” Mrs Torres smiled brightly. 

“That sounds lovely, Ma'am. I'll be back soon.” With one last smile and a nod, Steve was off. He supposed he should pick up a few things anyway, if he was going to be moving today without even returning home.

The nearest market was a nice one. Steve was able to get the things on Mrs Torres' list as well as everything he could think to purchase for his new place. He was amused to note that all of the things on her list were brands and products Steve usually stuck with because they reminded him of the old days. 

His thoughts were interrupted near the rear of the store. A little girl stopped him to ask if he had change for a dollar, since hers wouldn't work in the soda machine. Steve gave her a newer bill instead.

“Thanks. Hey...” She looked around nervously and then turned back to Steve. “Do you think we could take a selfie? My friends will never believe I met Captain America.”

Steve was touched that the girl had made sure no one noticed them before acknowledging who he was. He smiled and agreed right away. The girl pressed her face much closer to Steve's than most people did when they asked to take photos. He was about to ask if she wanted him to take the picture, since his arms were much longer, when the girl whispered to him. 

“He's waiting for you in the men's room. Your buddy.”

The girl took the photo and thanked him; trotting off to the soda machine before he could respond. 

Steve was stunned. Logically, he knew it could be anyone waiting for him in the restroom. Bucky had already warned him that he was under surveillance. But it was too much of a coincidence to think that Bucky had sent him to Mrs Torres and that led him where someone _else_ happened to be waiting for him. 

Steve approached the restroom with caution. No one was behaving suspiciously or appeared to be following him. He made a point to look for faces he saw during his usual routine. He didn't recognize anyone. 

There was a man -not Bucky- using the urinal in the restroom. Otherwise, it appeared empty. Steve was worried immediately. He leaned down to check for feet in the stalls, but saw none. The man at the urinal gave him a funny look and cleared out as soon as he was finished. 

Steve heard the lightest tap from the rear of the room. He followed the sound and saw a metal hand tapping on the glass of the room's only window. It lead to an alleyway behind the store. Steve locked the door before he crossed to the window and opened it. Then he stepped back as Bucky climbed in silently. 

For a moment they just stared at one another. Bucky had lost some of the bulk he'd had the last time Steve had seen him and he didn't look like he'd slept much the night before. He wore an old jacket and his hair looked like it hadn't been washed for a couple days. Despite this, he looked better than he had the last time Steve saw him. His color was better, his expression was more open and his eyes were alive in a way they hadn't been before. Steve could read him again. 

Bucky's expression and eyes showed fondness, fear, guilt, love, and remorse.

Steve smiled gently. “So you remember me, Bucky?”

Bucky wore a soft smile of his own. He spoke softly enough that he wouldn't be overheard but not so much that Steve had to strain to listen. “You always wanted to draw me, but you always thought somethin' was missing from those drawings. You liked fantasy stories best; Baum, Dahl, Lewis, Tolkien. We shared some cotton candy at the fair one time and you threw up all over me; it stained my shirt pink. Everyone always expected you to get sicker in the Winter, but it was Spring that got you...always had a harder time breathing then.”

Steve's breathing picked up as his friend spoke. He felt his cheeks pulling tight in what he was sure was a ridiculous smile. His eyes misted over. He blinked it away. “Bucky.” He didn't know what else to say. 

“Mostly.” Bucky's voice had gone horse with emotion. He blinked back a few tears of his own.

Steve closed the space between them and pulled Bucky into a tight hug. Bucky hesitated, but slowly raised his arms to return it. Then he dropped his head onto Steve's shoulder. 

“I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so s-”

Steve shook his head. “Don't. It wasn't- Jesus, Bucky. None of it was your fault. If I'd-”

“Don't.” Bucky sniffed. He griped the back of Steve's jacket. “If I don't get to take the blame then you don't either.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded. He held on a little tighter. “Okay.”

Steve loosened his grip and they both pulled back. Steve kept a hand on Bucky's shoulder as he looked his friend up and down. He didn't see any sign of injuries.

Bucky looked exhausted, but healthy. Clearly he'd been taking care of himself somehow over the months they'd been apart. Steve had so many questions he wanted to ask and so much he wanted to say. He didn't know where to begin.

Bucky, it seemed, didn't have that problem. 

“Your place is bugged.” He started without any preamble. “You've got tails on ya all the time. I took care of the ones I knew were Hydra, but I'm not sure whose behind the others. They can't follow you into Stark's place though. His security is too tight.”

Steve nodded. He'd assumed that was the case. “I know. I got your letter and I contacted Tony on the way here. Text only; no details.” He smiled at the reassured look that garnered. “I'm going to move into Avengers Tower. _Today_. He's probably already got someone clearing out my old place.”

Bucky looked relieved, as though a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. “Good.”

Steve couldn't believe that Bucky was still worrying about him. If either of them was in danger now, it was Bucky. Hydra wouldn't let such a powerful asset go without a fight and Bucky had no other allies as far as Steve could tell. 

Which brought Steve to his most pertinent question. “Why did you run?”

Bucky looked down and took a breath. Steve was reminded of the time Bucky had received his orders back during the war. It didn't feel so long ago anymore. Bucky looked up to met Steve's eyes when he answered, sounding certain but still remorseful. “It was the only option.” 

Steve wanted to argue that. He wanted to say that _he_ had been an option. That he could have protected his friend. He understood that Bucky wouldn't trust SHIELD or probably any agency now, but the Avengers... Steve realized Bucky probably hadn't known about them when he left him at the Potomac. 

He was about to mention all of this when the doorknob rattled. There was a quick knock on the door. After a brief pause, whoever was there must have decided that no one was in the restroom and they left. If whoever it was got an employee, Steve and Bucky wouldn't have long before they were interrupted. 

Steve grabbed Bucky's shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. “Come with me.”

Bucky shook his head. “I can't.” He looked and sounded regretful. “I'd endanger you...and your friends.”

Steve's grip was unrelenting. So was his resolve. He wasn't letting Bucky go again. “We're in danger anyway. We're taking down what's left of Hydra. You know that.” 

The corner of Steve's mouth turned up at the memory of Bucky having his back during the last Hydra raid. He wanted to go back to that, always. He needed his best friend, his partner, by his side again. 

“You've helped us. You can help us more by being there from the start, Buck. We were always better together than we were apart. Remember all those nights during the war when we stayed up working on strategies after the guys had all gone to sleep?

“And we can help you.” Any semblance of a smile slipped as Steve thought of everything Bucky could need help with; everything Steve might not know. He hated not knowing what was happening with Bucky almost as much as he hated what his friend had gone through. “Please, Bucky-”

Someone approached the door and Steve heard a key enter the lock. He felt Bucky tense under his hands so he pulled him closer and whispered into his ear. “Don't run.”

Bucky ducked his head when the door opened. Steve shifted to block him as much as possible as he moved to look over his shoulder. 

A young market employee was standing the doorway, one hand still on the knob and the other paused midway toward reaching for the key that was still in the lock. The man looked stunned. Steve didn't think he had been recognized. The other man likely hadn't expected to find two men embracing in the locked restroom. He didn't seem to know how to react. 

Steve was about to claim that he was just helping his friend and throw out something about PTSD, figuring it a believable excuse for the locked door when he thought better of it. He remembered what Natasha had told him about public displays of affection. As it was, the man in the door was avoiding looking directly at them. He'd never be able to describe Bucky to anyone if he was too uncomfortable to look at him. 

Instead, Steve smirked and dragged a hand down one of Bucky's arms until he could grab his flesh hand. He silently apologized to his mother as he moved his other hand to his crotch to 'discreetly' adjust himself. “Sorry; couldn't help myself.”

Bucky pressed his face into Steve's shoulder and huffed out a quick, muffled laugh. 

Steve pulled Bucky toward the door. The employee stepped aside, blushing and suddenly finding the sinks in need of inspection. Steve continued to lead Bucky all the way out of the store. 

Bucky moved to walk beside him once they hit the sidewalk but still kept his head down. His metal hand was tucked into his jacket pocket and his flesh hand was still gripped in Steve's. “I'm impressed.”

“I've picked up a few things.” Steve grinned as he glanced at his friend beside him. He still hadn't let go. “You're coming with me.” Steve could see Bucky's jaw shift in a way that let him know he had smiled, even if he couldn't see his face.

Bucky shook his head lightly. “When I have ever won an argument against your bullheadedness?”

“Never.” Steve smiled as he looked ahead and kept walking. Bucky would probably know immediately once his tail picked them up again. They could figure out how to protect him together. 

His smile waned slightly as he steered them toward the bus stop. “Shit.”

Bucky tilted his head slightly and glanced at him in concern. Then he nonchalantly checked whatever perimeter he had mentally marked around them. “What is it?”

“Mrs. Torres' groceries. I forgot them.” There was no way Steve was going to do anything at the moment but get Bucky to the Tower. “I still have her list, maybe I can have some delivered or-”

“It's already taken care of.” Bucky sounded a little amused.

Steve frowned and looked at Bucky, who still was walking with his head down. “What? How?”

“I bought their groceries and delivered 'em hours ago.”

“Wait...” Steve glanced at Bucky, he was walking the same as before. Anyone watching would have no idea what they were talking about. “You know her? Mrs Torres?”

“Yeah, I know her. Shit Steve, did you think I stole a random lady's pocketbook?” Bucky obviously knew the questions that would follow and answered them so Steve wouldn't have to ask. “I helped her out shortly after I started remembering. Her son died of an overdose not too long ago and some of his old customers were coming around and bothering her. I scared 'em off -no violence, just made sure they knew someone was looking out for her.”

“So you stole your friend's pocketbook?” Steve asked, still not sure how Bucky could count on everything working out as it did from there. Steve was the 'run into things head first' type. Bucky usually thought things through more. 

“No; she wanted to help me, so I asked her to get you to the market. That was her granddaughter that sent you to the restroom once I signaled the coast was clear. Mrs Torres loaned me an old pocketbook along with her old ID and library cards so you could find her. The credit card was one of those fake ones they send when they want you to sign up and all the money you returned to her was mine. That way she wouldn't lose anything if someone else took it.”

Steve blinked. He almost stopped walking but managed to catch himself with barely a hitch in his step. “You planned all of this?”

“Not _this_.” Bucky tilted his head into the space between them and Steve understood what he meant. He hadn't expected to be leaving with Steve. “I just wanted to warn you; try to talk you into movin' to Stark's place.” 

He hesitated a moment before adding, “And to see you.” He dropped his head down further and lowered his voice. “I missed you.”

Bucky seemed to expect Steve to tease him for the admission and, once upon a time, Steve knew he would have. At present, he was too happy to tease his friend. He could feel the ridiculous smile pulling at his cheeks. He didn't care. He had his best friend back. 

Steve released Bucky's hand only to throw his arm over his friend's shoulders the way Bucky used to do to him back when he was the smaller of the pair. He used the arm to pull Bucky closer and planted a kiss on the side of his head. “I missed you too, Bucky.”

Buck shook his head again but he didn't pull away and Steve could actually hear that old fond smile when he spoke. “Punk.”

Steve knew their troubles weren't over and he knew the road of recovery wasn't always going to be so easy, but together, he knew they'd come through. They always had. From now on, he'd be there when Bucky needed him. He'd hold onto him and he'd go after him should he ever slip away again. 

He didn't have to ask to know Bucky would be there for him as well. It was a good feeling. 

Steve was still beaming when he replied. “Jerk.”


End file.
